Returning
by cityscapes101
Summary: Ash has repented for his sins, and it has now been exactly a year since he left Mary-Lynnette. When he goes back to meet her, will she greet him with open arms? Please read. It means a lot. And Review!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm a fan of the Night World Series, and my favorite story is Ash and Mary-Lynnette's. I liked the ending, but I always wondered what happened after. So, I decided to write my own FanFiction! The first chapter is sort of short, and if I get reviews, I'll continue, and maybe I'll write longer ones. It depends on the reaction I get.**

**So, I hope you enjoy!**

The bright red desk in front of him seemed oddly opaque, all of a sudden. Ash gripped his pen tightly as he stared at the unfinished letter in front of him, addressed to Mary-Lynnette. God, how he missed her dearly. Every day he had the horrendous feeling that she had forgotten him, or worse, pledged to hate him for as long as she would live for leaving her alone in that dead-beat town. At least she had Rowan, Kestrel, Jade, and her brother, Mark.

But here, what did _Ash_ have? This empty room? This bright red desk? The pen that he was slowly breaking in his muscular hand?

A long time ago, Ash came to the conclusion that here, he had nothing.

He wondered if his life had been better before he met Mary-Lynnette. He had his sisters, for a time. He had his carefree life. He had his reputation for being irresponsible. And he didn't care. He never cared.

Almost every second while he was away, he wondered if the old Ash he killed was the wrong one to die.

Even on those days when he had given into his pessimism of ever seeing Mary-Lynnette again, when he would drive out to clubs in the city, he could never convince himself to go inside, and would always end up back home in this room, sitting at his desk, trying desperately to find the words to put into a letter.

And _that_ was where he was today.

Exhaling deeply in self-pity, Ash stood from the black chair, and crossed his bedroom to the calendar that rested on his wall. He hadn't checked it for weeks at a time, and hopefully he didn't have any people to repent to today. He stood in front of it, gazing at the individual squares, until he found today's date.

His eyes dilated.

In bright red letters, the date read:

**TODAY IS THE 365****TH**** DAY SINCE I LEFT MARE.**

How could he not remember that? She was probably expecting him that day. Gathering up what remained of his courage, he withdrew his cell phone from his pocket, dialing a number that he had not called in a year. He had never been able to face her, even if it was only her voice.

The phone only had to ring once.

"Ash?" It seemed like his insides melted at the sound of her sweet, almost unfamiliar voice. He hadn't felt this way since he last saw her. It proved how much he still loved that girl, even if she had moved on.

**A/N: So...how was it? Drop me a comment in the reviews! **

**PS: Please do not comment and be rude. I like constructive criticism, but I don't want people dropping f-bombs or anything. Oh, and the rating is T mostly because I'm paranoid. It won't get any worse than T either. Sorry for anyone that likes lemon. Even I enjoy a good lemon sometimes :). But not this time.**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to update. I'm sort of stuck and I have tons of other stories I'm writing that are original fictions, including a murder-mystery comic I'm writing with my friend. Anyway, I was overwhelmed by the responses I've gotten. Eight reviews on the first chapter for my first story? It did loads for my self esteem. Thanks all of you who read and added my story as a favorite. _That _made me feel amazing.**

**Sorry this chapter is short. I like short chapters. It keeps the suspense alive. And plus, I didn't have too much inspiration on this. School's back in and I'm a bit busy. But here it is!**

"Hi, Mare." He couldn't think of what to say. Should he apologize for not being there? Should he tell her how much he loved her? Should he ask if she loved him back?

"It's so weird to hear your voice." Mary-Lynnette chuckled, but it was a weak one.

There was a short silence. Ash could hear Mary-Lynnette's unsteady panting, which sent nervous ripples down his spine.

"I'm…sorry I wasn't there today…I…"

"You forgot." She said bluntly.

"It's not like I didn't care…I just…I've been thinking about you and lost track of time." Mary-Lynnette didn't answer. She paused, and every second that she remained silent sent Ash's heart pounding even harder.

"I understand…somewhat." She said finally. "So…are you coming? At all?"

"I am. I have to. I promised. I…I can't really stand another minute alone here…"

"You're not alone." Mare corrected. "You're staying with your father, right?"

"That counts as alone." Ash chuckled. "But anyway…I miss you."

"I miss you too." Ash glowed. Those few words were all he needed. Though missing him was not remotely the same as still _loving _him, it was a step in the direction Ash wanted. Ash sat back down at his desk, and opened the laptop that rested there. Opening the internet browser, he found himself on a flight-booking site, and began to set a flight for Montana.

"I'll be there tomorrow. I promise, Mare. I'm leaving tonight. I'm going to see you again. And I'm going to show you how much I missed you, whether you like it or not. You'll see."

"I'm sure you will, Ash. I…can't wait until you get here." Her voice wavered a bit. She probably tried to hold it back, but Ash noticed.

"You won't have to wait much longer. I swear. I need to go, Mare. I love you."

There was another long silence. "I…I…bye, Ash." The call ended, the damning numbers flashing menacingly on the cell phone's screen, mockingly telling him that she had hung up.

Ash sighed as he crossed the room to his closet to pull out his suitcase. Ash highly doubted that Mary-Lynnette could ever love him as much as he loved her. He knew that part of her hated him. The humanitarian part that could never forgive him for all the people he'd hurt, mistreated, and broken. He remembered facing those very people. He remembered their former bright faces in their minds, and when he faced them again…he saw the never-ending misery he had inflicted on them. It was enough to torture him inside for the rest of his existence. He wasn't sure how he could ever live with himself. He could understand why she would want nothing to do with him. He wouldn't blame her. He could only blame himself.

Ash threw the suitcase on his bed and opened it up, rushing to his drawers and tossing clothes from the drawers to the suitcase. Ash wasn't sure if Mary-Lynnette truly cared to see him, but by the gods, she would.

**Like? Or Not? Please say your thoughts in the Review Box! Come on! It's down there! Just CLICK! PLEASE! Love you forever???**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey. Sorry I haven't updated. I haven't really been on the site for weeks. I've been busy, though that probably isn't an excuse. ******

**There are a few things I want to clear up before you start reading.**

**I know that Ash's nickname for Mary-Lynnette was M'Lin, but I like Mare better.**

**I realized that Mare doesn't live in Montana, and lives in Oregon, so it'll say they live in Oregon in the chapter (I read the book 2 years ago).**

**That's it! I think…**

**Enjoy.**

Ash tapped his foot on the tile of the airport to an unknown beat. His ears seemed to tune out all sound, like he was in possession of concealed earplugs. The drone of the voices of the hundreds of people purchasing tickets, awaiting the arrival of friends of relatives, or the occasional groan from the announcement of a delayed, or worse, cancelled flight. He heard the noise, and was not ignorant to it, but his attention chose to ignore it. His attention was elsewhere, in once single place.

His heart, mind, and soul were in Oregon. They were in Mary-Lynnette's bedroom, only talking. He saw himself assuring her that he missed her, and that he was there, and it was all real. That they _were _together.

He would tell her things that she may not want to hear, but was hungry for, likewise.

He was excited, and nervous, of his future, of what was to come. Would she take him in with open arms? Or would she give him that look, that dreaded look that radiated disappointment. It wasn't like he was expecting anything. In fact, he was preparing himself for the worst.

He wasn't sure what he'd do if she denied him. He thought about it, not willingly, however. It was like his brain just glided to the subject in its times of depression. He would probably go home to his father. He'd sit in his room, his phone turned off. He would probably starve in the room. He wouldn't think, or feed, or move. He would be brain-dead, catatonic, like a living coma. Nothing would wake him from the sleep. He would die there. And Mary-Lynnette would be none the wiser, though he guessed that wouldn't be fair to her.

_Fairness, _he thought. _Who am I to talk about fairness? Nothing in my life is fair because I never did anything to deserve it. I'm a liar, a cheat, a manipulator. _He felt like a hypocrite, talking about these things. What did Mary-Lynnette think when she saw those things in his mind last year? She probably felt just like he did presently, it not worse. She probably hated herself for being attracted to such a man. What kind of person could love a…a _thing _like him?

A soothing (but not to Ash) voice spoke through a loud microphone at a desk in front of his section of seats.

"Flight 217 from JFK to EUG is now boarding. Again, Flight 217 from JFK to EUG is now boarding." Ash stood, gathered his things, and made his way to the gate. Each step he took was another toward the ending of…well, him.

* * *

Ash arrived in Oregon at about two in the afternoon at the airport in Eugene. His journey toward his love was not yet over. Briar Creek was almost two hours away.

He had found himself in a yellow taxi, speeding toward Mary-Lynnette every second. He had paid the driver a large sum to get him to Briar Creek as quickly as possible, and of course, he obliged.

Ash watched the asphalt fly behind them in silence as they gained speed and distance away from the airport and towards what he was absolutely terrified of. His dreams and nightmares.

Ash radiated fear. He was a conduit for terror. He couldn't believe that a girl could increase his breathing in that way. And…was he _sweating?_

He began to bit his nails. He couldn't think, but yet the activity in his brain was like the airport he had left.

Time had begun to fly by. The scenery became less populated, until Ash was almost sure the driver had become lost. But he remembered how barren Briar Creek was. How small and close-knit. He remembered how he…sort of liked it.

His watched ticked away the minutes.

He had left the airport thirty minutes ago.

…Forty-five…

An hour…

An hour and a half…

Two hours. Two hours had passed. Ash thought he was going into cardiac arrest. He began to shake. Was he having a seizure? He bit his lip. He thought he tasted blood.

The taxi driver, a young man in his thirties, looked back in the mirror as they passed the sign that read "Welcome to Briar Creek", unnoticed.

"Are you okay, kid?" The man asked.

Ash drew his head up and looked at him.

"Truthfully, I'm a bit nervous."

"Ah. Is it about a girl?"

Ash resisted the temptation to smile. "It is, actually."

"Psychic, aren't I?" He joked. "Well, are you together?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of? I get it. You like her, but you aren't sure she likes you." Ash was wondering if this guy was a warlock or something. But most witches or warlocks couldn't read minds. Could they?

"Yeah." Ash shook.

"Well, all you can do is tell her how you feel. And if she doesn't return the favor," he smirked, "You just keep trying."Ash kept this in mind. The man was right. He couldn't live his life knowing that she was out there. He had to be with her. He needed her. Mind, body, and soul. All of her. And if she didn't want him, he'd just try harder.

"Thanks for the advice."

"Don't mention it." He laughed. "You just looked so goddamn miserable back there. I felt the need to say something." Ash chuckled nervously.

Ash looked out the window of the grubby taxi, and his eyes almost fell out of his skull. This place looked really familiar. It was her neighborhood.

He was there.

…_fuck_.

**REVIEW.**


	4. Author's Note

**AUTHORS NOTE **

I'm back!

Sorry to everyone that wanted to read more, I just…I've had some things going on and this has been a last priority for a very very long time. But now, I'm back, and I'll be posting a new one ASAP. So if you're still interested, you won't have to wait much longer!

Sincerely,

Cityscapes101


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks for being patient. Here we go! This chapter is going to be longer than the others, so I hope that pleases the people that hate short chapters. I am one of those people, but writing is hard! Oh, and this is Mary-Lynette's POV, for those of you who suggested that, thanks!**

First, it was her clothes.

Then her hair.

Her makeup.

Her perfume.

What she was going to say.

What she wasn't going to say.

Would she hug him? Kiss him? Or had their relationship been reduced to a handshake? Or…should she expect nothing from the man?

Should she be ready to meet a changed man? Should she even believe one word that she says?

She had pushed Mark out of the house, forcing him to stay the night at a friend's—she couldn't deal with him that day, her mind so cluttered and deeply inquisitive. She had arranged for her father and her stepmother to go to Seattle for the weekend, in what she called the "Congratulations, Your Daughter is going to College Let's Go Out and Celebrate" weekend. Sure, she blew through half of her savings, but it was worth it if she would be able to have a few days to herself. Wondering in vain if all three hundred and sixty-six days of waiting were a waste of time, or when every morning that she dreamt of his eyes was for naught. It took a lot out of you. She wasn't even going to take into account the fact that he was a fucking _vampire. _She already had enough on her mind.

_Everything _about the day was important to her. She cleaned the house until it shined like a diamond in the sun and until it smelled like she had baked sixteen lemon meringue pies. She had ordered dinner (she didn't want to kill him with her cooking the very first day, she thought that that would be quite inconsiderate), and she had made sure that the house was empty and that everyone would leave her to her peace for one day, at least. She curled her dark hair, pulling most of it into a messy bun, but letting the other ringlets frame her face. She thought about wearing a dress, but she realized that it was just Ash, so she settled for a comfortable pair of jeans and a blank pink tee shirt. She was, also, barefoot.

Maybe she over prepared. Maybe she was expecting too much of Ash, expecting that he had drastically changed his heart to a form she could be with. But she always hoped…always, constantly, every moment she could, she poured some hope into it.

And what would they talk about? How Jeremy was a werewolf? Now a _dead_ werewolf? Or how his aunt died? Or any of the horrific things that had happened when he last saw her? Or would the reminisce on that night where they stargazed, and she kissed him, and everything finally seemed to fall back into place. For a few moments, at least. They couldn't discuss school, or parents, because Ash wasn't a normal teenager. He didn't have _normal _problems. His biggest problem was to try not to get killed by other vampires if they ever found out about our relationship. _That _was our biggest issue. Not the average issue most people have when they're dating.

She had previously spoken to Rowan, since it was clear that her ridiculous expectations of Ash were leading to a neural implosion, but then the burst was defused by Rowan's very clear, soft, reasonable voice. Mary-Lynnette had even memorized a mantra that may or may not help her at all.

"I can do this. It's a date. I've been on dates."

She was so confused, about the date and the circumstances…the fact that it had been a whole year…had she changed? What if that year had permanently changed her into someone that Ash couldn't relate too? A year can fulfill a lot of maturing…was the jump from eighteen to nineteen too large? She could have stood there and reconsidered everything, but she knew that if she did, then she wouldn't be able to face him, to look into those endless eyes and try to remember the reasons that she loved him.

_He's funny. And he's kind to me and my family. He's good-looking, that's a definite. His eyes…those are a plus. And our connection to one another is something that not many people have…something I definitely could never really forget, not ever. Smart dresser. _She laughed to herself. _Figure of a thin supermodel…like David Tennant, or something. Or William Beckett…whatever. What else? His smile. His intellect and his oath to change. And his oath to protect me from anything. What girl can resist that? He was so perfect…except for those things that he had done. Those awful, awful things that I can't even speak of. I couldn't imagine…being in their place I'd…I don't know what I'd do. And I loved a person who could do that to someone…or do I love him? Is it love? I don't even know…_

She decided that this couldn't be hard at all. She had been in difficult situations before. And Ash wasn't threatening. Ash wouldn't hurt her. It was a date, a simple night with him, and if all went well, he'd stay the night and they'd start again the next day. That was all. Nothing else…but why did it seem like she was preparing for Queen Elizabeth II to spend the night at her house?

So she shocked herself when she heard the undeniable sound of knocking coming from her front door and her hard matched the speed of her ridiculously short pants. She wasn't going to pass out or faint, she wasn't that weak, and she wasn't just about to give in to the cliché, but it was true that she was taking "anxiety" to a whole new level of ridiculous.

Maybe she shouldn't answer. Maybe he'd leave, and she'd be rid of him forever, and her mind could finally rest assured knowing that the nightmare was over. That it was all over.

But where was the fun in that? The excitement? The danger? The feeling of…of being alive? Of living life the way if guided you? She knew what was right, in her heart, and that was why she walked right up to that door to open it, her heart pounding like a kick drum.

"I left my sleeping bag."

It was Mark.

There weren't very many times where Mary-Lynette seriously considered killing her brother, but she was about to add  
"1" to the number of times where she thought about it.

"You…_little…_God, I can't talk to you right now. I wish…I wish I could kill you and bury you out back, but I'm not going to do that…I'm stressed as it is…" She sighed. Mark looked a bit shocked, which was understandable, since his sister just threatened him with death, but she really didn't care. She _really _didn't care.

"You haven't changed at all."

She hadn't heard that voice in a long time. It entered her ears and when her brain processed the sound, he heart responded with a pause in its beats, and the shock on her face matched the one on her brothers' (both, however, for two completely different reasons).

The first thing she thought when she turned around to see him standing in her front yard was, _"Nice timing, genius." _Soon after that, her thought turned to _"God, he's gorgeous." _Then _"How long have I been staring?" _It later became evident that it had been a pretty long time, because he began to smirk and said, "I know I'm handsome, but I didn't think I was _that _fit."

He hadn't changed either.

Mark, thankfully, slipped inside to get what he needed without a word, leaving me to stand silently at Ash, our eyes locked, the distance between us so great that it was getting to be a bit…weird.

"Aren't you going to invite me inside?" He asks, breaking the silence, smiling. "We have a lot to talk about."

**Hooray! I finished this chapter. Be sure to review. Oh, and if you're interested in Doctor Who, or science fiction, or for some reason you like my writing (I don't understand why, but okay) could you please check out my two Doctor Who stories? You can find them in my profile. Oh, and if you're interested in Vampire Academy (I'm not really a fan of V.A., but there's a character in it that I really like: Aiden), read my V.A. story, also in my profile page.**

**Thanks!**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm back with another chapter. This one is a bit boring, I think, but necessary. Mary-Lynnette still has a lot of doubts in this relationship, and before they can jump into the romantic aspects they still have many questions. I hope you enjoy!**

You know how you've prepared for days on end for something, and then the hours finally roll by to that certain time—and you still aren't prepared? Mary-Lynnette could say that that was the way she felt, but after a very short moment of pensiveness she decided that the situation she was in was a bit too abnormal to really count.

There they were again, the two of them in her house. They were playing a ridiculously difficult game of charades, as Mary-Lynnette studied his movements with almost a scientific air—the length of his breaths and the weakness or intensity of his eyes. It was all an experiment, and the end results were so crucial. Because the events to come, she knew very well, could define the path she would follow for the remainder of her life. Nothing about those events was clear. She did, however, know the names of the paths that fate would bring her.

With Ash and Without Ash.

She didn't know if he was as anxious as she was, if his blood boiled with the same intensity and at the same temperature as hers. That was, again, an uncertainty. But she wasn't clueless. She knew that in due time everything would feel the way it was supposed to. She just didn't know what it was supposed to feel like.

"Mary-Lynnette." Ash's voice penetrated the silence and reached her awaiting ears, reverberating off of her eardrums like a familiar song she hadn't heard in ages. "I miss saying that name."

"I might miss hearing it." She hinted, not trying to lure him in into anything she didn't mean, but not trying to passively shake off his charm either.

He smiled again.

"So…you're a graduate."

"Yeah, I'm an astronomy major."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks. So you're a new man."

"I'd like to think so."

"Hm." There was a pause, the awkwardness that spontaneously generated from it spreading to both of their minds, and Mary-Lynnette could see the frustration on his face slowly intensify into something that closely resembled…agony.

"Why are we doing this, Mare?" He inquired pleadingly. He closed the meter gap between their bodies to maybe half of its original distance. "What are we?"

She realized that his question was one of the most pertinent that she had considered. And she realized that her answer to this question was exceptionally unbeknownst to either of them.

"I don't know…I just…I don't know if we can pick up where we left off. I don't know if I even want to. But I can't speak for you." She spoke the truth. Maybe it wasn't the truth that he wanted to hear, she couldn't assume anything about the thoughts that were being contemplated in his mind. Maybe it wasn't the truth that he expected, but she couldn't understand why not. After a full year of little to no communication, her blood was tame; her love was virtually nonexistent because after such a length of time her skin was comfortable alone. She didn't need him; it took her a year to realize. But no one needs to love. They just want it. And maybe in the next day or two, the desire would return. "I still love you."

This minute sentence that he uttered was another perfect example of something that she was prepared for, but when it happened, all of her defenses and preparations were for naught. She didn't know how to reply or what to say. And what do girls do when they can't answer a question along those lines?

"Do you want tea, or something?" She asked. She didn't expect…she hadn't even _contemplated _the fact that maybe he didn't feel the same way as she. She was so self-involved, drowning herself in her own anxiety that she never stopped in her hectic tracks to think, "Hmm, maybe he still loves me. Maybe when he said _'I love you' _over the phone, he actually _meant it._" She wanted to kick herself for her own ignorance but the crestfallen demeanor Ash has exercised sort of froze her.

"That would be nice, thanks. Two sugars." She left him rapidly, and from the soft sound that she heard resound from the front room, Ash had probably laid his lanky form out onto the sofa. As she heated the water on the stove and reached upwards to try in vain to grasp her hand around one of the mugs in one of the high kitchen cabinets (she wasn't very tall), she thought about his body. Not in an overtly sexual way, but she had to think over what she had observed.

Her mind was repeatedly plagued by thoughts of his legs, the long, thin things clothes in tight denim that were funny and sexy simultaneously, reminding her of his towering height. His body was perfectly sculpted in such a way to make God cry, his torso covered with a red tee and a black leather jacket, and the ash color of his fair hair and the brilliancy of his eyes. He scared her with the awkward handsomeness he donned. It wasn't like he was the most beautiful being she had ever seen, because he did have his flaws. She could probably wrap her hand around his waist, and he hunched over constantly, his posture awfully horrid, but when she looked at his face and lost her own body in his stare all of that was forgotten. All she could remember was the look of his eyes and the fullness of his lips and the feeling of his body when it was pressed against hers in every way except one, that one simple way that she remembered she wanted and did not want again simultaneously, these paradoxes pulling her both ways. His lips moving and speaking against her own, almost like they were speaking against each other's mouths, the electricity and ecstasy and pleasure that she had experienced when he was able to take her in his arms was something that was a photograph in her mind's gallery, a momentous fragment in time that was impossible to forget.

And in this reverie, her fingers hooked a mug handle, and it tumbled out of the cabinet onto the floor with a crash, scattering fragments of painted glass across the tile, reflecting the lights of the room all across the air.

It was like Ash was at her side in an instant, and again, he was smiling, the depressed façade that he had adopted all but dissolved.

"Congratulations." In my clouded anger I kicked him in the shin—and when I say that I kicked him in the shin, I don't mean a harmless love tap. I mean a kick.

_"Fuck, _Mare." He held his shin and jumped in place, wincing with the pain of the slowly forming bruise. All she could do is laugh, tears running out of her eyes with the hilarity of the situation, the familiarly of it all. And he looked at her as if she was insane, rubbing his shin tenderly, and the corners of his mouth rose and soon the laughing was mutual, and to make it even odder, she wrapped her arms around his slim waist. She couldn't see his reaction, but she assumed that it was a mixture of shock and delight.

She buried his face in his jacket, the coolness of the material consoling the warm delight and embarrassment in her cheeks, reminding her of the healing qualities of his proximity, and the care that he showed. She wanted to remain there, his arms low on her back, a bit sexual but she savored it, she thought nothing of his hands warm against her lower back, the electricity from his fingertips sinking into her skin, itching to go lower, but not going to far with her patience, and she appreciated that about him.

He was the first to back away, surprisingly, and she realized that she missed the sensation, and she assumed that Ash had noticed this, because he grinned for the thousandth time and said, "I can only assume that I was the cause of your mug breaking." She only returned the smile and moved to the closet outside of the kitchen to get the broom. He followed, his footsteps echoes of hers as we walked.

"You're a piece of work, Mary-Lynnette." He said behind her as she opened the closet door. "You break a mug, and then kick me, and then you _laugh about it, _and then you hug me. That was the most ridiculous swing of moods that I've seen…no, wait, it's not."

"Ash, sometimes I wonder if you talk just to hear the sound of your own voice." She took the broom and backed out of the closet, closing it behind her and standing mere inches from his still form.

"I do, actually. I have found my voice to have a very sensual air to it." Her foot lifted for an additional kick but he backed away, and the distance between them widened once again.

"I'm going to make your tea now, Ash. And you're going to wait in the front room. Please."

"You haven't changed at all…" He said with a wink, backing away into the front room, leaving her a bit of air to breath.

Mary-Lynnette was having a hard time figuring out how she was going to possibly survive this.


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: So, yeah, I've been gone for a while. I have school, this really isn't the highest priority of mine. My goal, however, is to finish this story, maybe there will be another 2 or 3 chapters, and that will be all.**

**Now on to the fun, less serious stuff. I will be the first to admit that this chapter is a bit boring, but it's necessary to bridge the gap to the more important part of the story, the climax. I am in the process of writing the follow up to this chapter, so hopefully you won't have to wait too long.**

**Read and review! Thanks.**

**-cityscapes101**

**Mary-Lynnette POV**

The first hour or so afterwards passed better than she had previously expected.

After the mug incident, she was able to civilly speak with Ash-or at least, to some extent. Ash was, by nature, the very opposite of civil. With the warm mugs of black tea in their hands, him lying lackadaisically on the sofa and her lounging in the plush armchair adjacent to him, the environment switched from tense to relaxed at last.  
He seemed to have forgotten about that moment in the kitchen, where he held her in his arms in one of the most tender embraces he had ever given her, transcending something so deep and gorgeous and luxurious that she could still feel the faint hum of the emotion of the moment on her skin, Or at least, he didn't bring it up.  
They were able to converse as friends, something that Mary-Lynnette vehemently adored. It was a step, in her mind. They weren't awkward of careful or confused. They were just _them,_ drinking tea, and chatting as if they had no worried in the world.  
He wanted to know everything about her past year, from the big things, like the health of her brother and his sisters and what colleges that she had applied to, to the small things, from her favorite recent song, or the last food that she had tasted and adored.  
She answered every question, wondering if he really cared that much about every facet of her recent escapades or fantasies. The questions were all surprisingly tame, which she became increasing joyous about as time trundled on. However, about an hour into his assault, he shattered the foundation of her elation with one sentence.  
"I'm guessing you've moved on from me by now, haven't you?" What shocked her more than the question itself was the smile that still continued to dominate his demeanor. The irony of the statement and his resulting emotions could not possibly escape her, and she assumed that it did not escape him either.  
"If you're thinking that I dated or had a relationship with any other guy, you're seriously mistaken." She placed her feet up on the armchair and she sipped her tea lightly, peering curiously at Ash from over the mug.  
"Ah." Was all he said, and he drank his tea similarly. Their eyes locked, and hers flashed with annoyance over his passive, emotionless reply. He smirked at her anger. She wanted to wipe that victorious smile off of his pretty little face more than she wanted air to breathe. Her mind quickly formulated a simple idea, a test, almost. She grinned inwardly as she sipped her tea and continued their stare-down. Her idea would kill two birds with one stone-testing him, and most importantly, making that devious little smirk of his disappear as quick as love.  
_We'll see who's laughing,_ she thought.  
Gently, calmly, and with zero emotion, she sat her mug down on the coffee table in front of them. Slowly, she stood, Ash's eyes following her as he did so. She sauntered over to the sofa he laid on. Sensing her approach, he sat his mug down as well, his smirk wavering slightly. Slowly and deliberately, she swung one leg over his body, effectively straddling him, her knees sinking into the sofa. By this time, his triumphant facade had quickly morphed into shock. She leaned forward, pressing her chest against his, her lips just inches away from where his awaited, his sweet breath warming them. His eyes were as wide as headlights, and she could only smile.  
"Mare-"  
"What?"  
"What are you doing?"  
"Nothing in particular."  
He was silent for a few moments, and soon, he was able to reconcile his calmness. His eyes shrunk to their normal size, and his stupid little smile reappeared.  
"I guess you just couldn't resist me any longer. It's okay. I understand."  
She exhaled, still grinning. "You're an asshole."  
She got off of him, still smiling, and began walking towards to front door.  
"Mare-I'm sorry if I offended you-come back, please, sweetheart." She turned sharply on her heel and savored that morose, paled face of his that seemed to beg her to return. She considered keeping him like that, feigning anger, but she decided quickly that that would be slightly cruel.  
"I'm not angry at you." She admitted. "I'm going to the car, and I was hoping that you'd follow. I'm taking you somewhere." She suddenly realized it mere moments ago. If she was going to truly figure out what they were and where their relationship was going to go, they were going to need to go back to the start.  
"Oh." He ran up to her quickly. Grabbing her car keys from a little table next to the door, she opened it and walked though, taking Ash's hand as he did so. "New car." he said as they approached the white Golf in the drive. "I assumed that that would be necessary, considering what happened." She unlocked the car with a silent nod and he opened the driver's door for her. In the fading sunlight, he looked even more handsome. Thanking him, she entered the car and closed the door.  
As he climbed in on the opposite side, she said, "You passed my test, by the way." He shut the door. Confused, he stared into her eyes, the muted orange sunlight glinting off of his eyes.  
"What?" He scratched his head.  
"I wanted to see if you'd kiss me back there." She admitted. "Obviously, you have more self-control than I thought."  
"Yeah, well, I surprise myself sometimes. It's difficult, but it happens, And just for the record, you are hard to resist." Blushing, she turned the key into the ignition, backed out of the drive, and sped down the road with Ash dominating her thoughts, especially in the dulled light of the sun that they drove into.


End file.
